


Say No to This

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, But not meant to be Steve-bashing either, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Communication Failure, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not Steve Friendly, Only Yes Means Yes, Self-Blame, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”― Lewis Carroll, Alice in WonderlandThere are a lot of things Tony thinks he should have said to Steve. "You need to work on your timing" perhaps, or maybe one of those catchy slogans universities use in of their anti-assault campaigns. Clarify the distinction between a "break" and a "breakup", perhaps.Mostly, though, he thinks he should have said no.And then he remember the Accords, imagines the world where he let Cap storm out of the room, where Rogers didn't sign and the Avengers fractured in two.And then he thinks, maybe it's good I didn't.(Maybe it wouldn't have mattered if he had.)





	Say No to This

**Author's Note:**

> In the real world, there is no such thing as "dubious consent." We just call it rape.
> 
> +++
> 
> This was written in a single sitting and is likely full of typos and malapropisms. Definitely inspired by lieweaver's orphaned work with similar themes.
> 
> This is the first time I've posted something anonymously, and maybe that makes me a hypocrite but hey. Since it's anonymous, I can tell you that, while adapted to fit the MCU characters and circumstances, this is very heavily influenced by personal experiences. He was my first relationship, but more importantly--he was a good friend, someone I trusted and someone I thought I loved.
> 
> Make of that what you will, or make nothing of it at all. Up to you.

Tony doesn’t know how it got this far.

 

Well, that’s a lie.

 

He knows  _ exactly  _ how it got to this point.

 

_ It’s worth it,  _ he tells himself.

 

_ It has to be. _

 

+++

 

Six months ago, if you had told the Tony that had retired from the Avengers and was in a committed relationship with Pepper that he would soon be  _ Captain America’s  _ glorified bedwarmer and whore, he would have laughed himself silly. Then, he’d either have asked just what drugs you were tripping on. He might have even politely requested that, while he was hardly one to kinkshame, he’d prefer to be left out of them.

 

_ Hah. _

 

_ Joke’s on him. _

 

+++

 

Maybe it starts when he and Pepper go on a break. It was supposed to be just that—a break. Not permanent. They both loved each other but… they just weren’t what the other person needed then. They needed to figure out, after years of non-stop crisis, who they even were as people now. What they wanted as individuals. _They_ the singular, so they could recover and redefine  _they_ the unit.

 

But if Tony doesn’t have a girlfriend, he must be DTF whenever, right? The  _ playboy  _ part of the whole genius blah blah blah spiel.

 

+++

 

He still loves Pepper, he thinks.

 

Sometimes, he wonders if Happy still has the ring.

 

(He probably doesn't.)

 

She doesn’t—she couldn’t—know the full story. He turned a  _ break  _ into a  _ break-up  _ seemingly out of nowhere—and all to hook-up with Captain America, to boot. 

 

Didn’t even have the decency to tell her that before blowing the man out of sight, perhaps, but damn well not out of earshot of a half-dozen JCTC officers

 

+++

 

If there is a real turning point, though, it is when he makes the mistake of mentioning Wanda’s so-called  _ internment. _

 

Steve shuts down, and all Tony knows is that  _ he can’t let Steve leave.  _ Not now, not like this.

 

They’re in each other faces, then. If Steve wants to leave, he’s going to have to go through Tony. 

 

And—they’re friends, right? Friends fight sometimes. Sometimes, those fights even get really bad. Things get said and maybe it’s difficult, for a while. But at the end of the day, they’re still friends.

 

Lord knows how he’d have kept Rhodey, or Happy, or even Pepper, around for so long without him.

  
  


Cap was a Good Man. He’d see reason, they’d find a compromise—Steve was just out of whack. Because fucking Ross had to stick his nose in. Because his long-lost love had just died. Because his end-of-the-line best friend had just become the target of an international manhunt for a crime he  _ genuinely  _ didn’t commit, full-stop and sans of the moral ambiguity of the whole brainwashed assassin thing that Tony tried not to think about too much.

 

Point was, it’d been an emotional few days, coming on the heels of their disastrous Lagos mission that Cap was no doubt still beating himself up over.

 

Tony wasn’t exactly in the best emotional state either, all things considered.

 

And maybe that—the high emotions, building upon days and days of stress—can explain if not excuse that first time.

 

Their faces are inches apart, bright red, metaphorical lightning crackling between their eyes.

 

And then—

 

One, or both of them, lean in just a bit too far at just the right ~~(wrong)~~ moment.

 

Their lips touch.

 

They both freeze for a moment, and then—

 

Steve’s kissing him like a man possessed. And, okay,  _ maybe  _ he’s had fantasies about this happening before, especially when he was a horny teenager and Captain America was more an image than a man in his mind, and long dead besides.

 

When Steve Rogers came back, he’ll admit the occasional erotic dream—that  _ was  _ America’s ass, after all. He's firmly in the 1-2 range on the Kinsey scale, and well, he's not blind.  But they were just that. Dreams. Fabrications of his unconscious mind, and despite what Freud might say that didn't necessarily imply he wanted anything to happen in real life. 

 

Hell, he’d freaked out enough after that first dream. He told Pepper, of course he had, because he didn’t know if emotional infidelity was a thing but if it was then wasn’t that what he’d  _ just done, _  when he'd promised to be faithful and  _dammit he had meant it._ __

 

When he told Pepper, though, she’d stared at him for a long moment before saying—

 

“I’ve had wet dreams about Natasha before, I don’t judge.”

 

And once he’d recovered from the blue screen of  _ that  _ mental image, she’d followed up with—

 

“And  _ no,  _ Tony, there will be no threesomes, even if Nat wouldn’t kill you for the suggestion.”

 

“And since I think 0 of 3 parties would actually be down for America’s Ultimate Power Triple, that’s also never going to be a thing,” Tony replied, more for his sake than hers.

 

Back then, it’d been true even—this had been before the Fall of SHIELD and the reassembling of the Avengers to fight HYDRA. He and Steve were perhaps friendly with each other—they’d eaten shawarma and save the world together, after all—but calling them  _ friends  _ would have been pushing it, if not an outright fabrication. Steve was incredibly hot, sure, but evidently Tony was finally maturing or something and even if there'd been no Pepper ~~(knock on wood)~~ he wanted more than just sexual attraction in his partners these days.

 

_ Who knew. _

 

Hard to say when the numbers had started to shift on that one; on Tony’s part he’d have classified their relationship as a “bromance” just before—and perhaps still after—Ultron and Sokovia. 

 

You know, if was going to get all touchy-feely with it. 

 

Which he never would. 

 

(Christ, it was hard enough with Pepper and, sometimes, Rhodey. Don’t expect miracles even from a “changed man.”) 

 

Their relationship, such as it was, wasn’t romantic—or at least, he hadn’t considered it to be. But. Maybe he’d been sending mixed signals, in all those small moments and interactions that he’d considered the sign of a strong friendship, perhaps comparable to what he had with Rhodey.

 

Such a cliche, but maybe he had been ‘asking for it’ in a sense.

 

In any event, the kiss deepens, and it’s several seconds too long before Tony regains the presence of mind enough to even  _ think  _ to pull away.

 

Cap breaks the kiss first, flushed, breathless, and—

 

“Tony, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

 

Well, Cap wasn’t wrong there. Tony indeed had no idea; for a variety of reasons it never truly occurred to him to entertain the possibility.

 

And okay, this is the moment where, if there was any ambiguity how responsible Tony was for this whole fucked up situation before, he’s most certainly at fault after.

 

“Good thing you’ve got photographic memory. Sorry sweetheart, but the whole international criminal thing kinda puts a damper on that kinda thing. Which, y’know, is what you'll be if you insist on walking out that door without signing.”

 

Perhaps Cap looks incredibly tired for an instant, but it’s gone before Tony can tell if it’s anything more than a trick of the light.

 

Then he hardens and, with a mocking quirk of a smile, says— 

 

“Sign the accords and I’ll sleep with you? Quite forward, even for you.”

 

Even then, Tony doesn’t quite realize the direction this conversation has taken. Not really. The kiss has thrown him, but Tony can roll with the punches. If it slows Cap down enough that he’ll actually take the time to  _ listen,  _ Tony will even do his best to let the man down gently on the whole Tony-and-Steve shebang.

 

~~(Because that's what a friend would do.)~~

 

The thing is, this kind of banter? It's not particularly outside of the range of their normal. It's the first sign he’s seen of his friend since this whole fiasco started. He’ll save the whole conversation on mixed signals and actually maintaining  _ some _ professional boundaries for another time.

 

So he quips back, “I’ll just lie back and think of America, shall I?”

 

And Steve scowls, but it’s good, it's that familiar, amused-but-not-wanting-to-admit-it scowl. “I’m not wearing the uniform.”

 

“Make love not War, Captain.” Tony grins, pauses, then continues in a more serious tone, “Cap. Please. People are out for Wanda’s blood right now. If you trust me—if you’ve  _ ever  _ trusted me—I need you to back my play on this one. This is me, your teammate,  _ telling you things.  _ I just need you to listen.”

 

Steve goes still for a long moment, a hint of—guilt? Shame?—creeping into his expression.

 

Then he says—

 

“Provisional.”

 

At Tony’s expression, he clarifies,

 

“I’m not going to stand behind something I don’t fully support. I need more than two days, Tony, and I want to trust you but I’m not going to risk  _ any  _ of us becoming government attack dogs. And I won’t—I don’t bow to men like Ross.”

 

And Tony wants to be relieved, but he’s still waiting for the rug to pull out from under him.

 

“That’s all this is. Provisional. You don’t  _ have  _ to do anything. People are scared, they see Sokovia and Lagos and they think, “that could be us” or maybe they just don’t want our help. And, unless it’s like, aliens over Manhattan or London, world-ending levels of bad, we have to respect their right to choose, even if we don’t agree with it. We can’t force them. That’s—how are we not just the WSC and Insight 2.0 if we trample on everyone's rights, even if we think it’s for their ‘own good.’”

 

And Steve is quiet. Finally, he says, “Okay. But—” and he gets that furtive look, like when he knows he’s being surveilled but can’t tell where or how well, “—this whole situation, there’s there’s definitely something more, something big, and I’m not sure there’ll be time for a bunch of red tape...”

 

_ Well. Fuck.  _

 

When it rains, it pours.

 

“...Let me take care of that. Just sign, reassure a few people that you’re willing to at least take a seat at the table, and it will be  _ so much easier  _ to get some leeway on that. Fuck, the U.N. wants there to still be a planet Earth at the end of the day too, y’know?”

 

Steve searches Tony’s eyes, says, “Okay. I’ll sign. But then we need to talk.  _ In private.” _

 

After, just as Tony thinks he might finally be able to breathe again, he’s being pulled into a closet by Steve and—

 

Well. It’s a bit more cramped than perhaps Steve anticipated—even once he somehow manages to get the door closed, they’re still chest-to-chest, Tony’s back against the door and Steve bracing himself against it to avoid hitting his head. There's a shelf right above him, just a few inches too low for his super-soldier stature.

 

Tony’s heartbeat ticks up a notch, and maybe that plus the abruptness of the movement explains why the words come out breathier than he was going for—

 

“Hard to lie back in this position, Captain.”

 

For an instant, Steve looks baffled, Tony thinks and later Tony will struggle to figure out what that meant, but a moment later it’s replaced with something else, something darker.

 

Well, as much as Tony can read any expression in an unlit closet, really.

 

“And I told  _ you  _ maybe America isn’t who you should be thinking about right now.”

 

The penny drops.

 

The scene turns from humorous homo-eroticism to something that seems all too real. Things are clicking into place, and Tony doesn’t like the picture they’re creating.

 

He heart rate is definitely increasing. His body reacting to the intimacy of their respective positions. 

 

He swallows dryly. 

 

Stares into Cap’s unreadable eyes. 

 

 

Thinks of Pepper. 

 

_ He can’t do this. _

 

He tries to deflect. Emotions are high, Steve’s not thinking clearly, and maybe Tony should have reacted more forcefully to the unwanted kiss but what’s done is done, so…

 

“Thought you said you had something big we needed to—” and  _ oh,  _ Tony just realized how that sounds “— _ please  _ tell me you meant an actual crisis,  _ not  _ your genitalia.”

 

Cap’s grin is positively lascivious now.

 

“...Who says we can’t  _ talk  _ about both?”

 

Tony didn’t realize Cap could get physically any closer to him, and if his body’s reaction was gone unnoticed before it  _ definitely  _ wasn’t now. Steve grinds once, twice, against him, and then he’s whispering in his ear, “‘Sides, what better way to make sure our conversation’s private?” 

 

His warm breath leaves a wave of goosebumps in its wake, and Tony’s breath hitches in a way that sounds more aroused than unhappy even to his own ears.

 

“...Didn’t peg you for the exhibitionist kink, Rogers.”  _ Take the out, Steve. _

 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,  _ Stark. _ ” 

 

Tony can’t even remember the last time Steve used his last name like that. It’s perhaps more unsettling than the rest of this already disturbing scenario combined.

 

“Yeah, starting to get that.”

 

Steve grinds against him again, and this time Tony  reacts. __ H is hips jerk forward, involuntary chasing the sensation.

 

Steve—Cap—Rogers seems to take that as a signal, and then they’re kissing again, and there’s nowhere for Tony to go, and he’s wearing the repulsor watch and maybe he could blast Steve away, but this is  _ Steve  _ he would never and this was all a misunderstanding, no need to bring violence into it when words would surely suffice. 

 

_ And,  _ a part of him thinks traitorously,  _ if Steve really doesn’t want to stop, do you really think you can make him. _

 

But no. This is  _ Steve _ .  _ Captain America. _

 

He wouldn’t—

 

_ Would he? _

 

When Steve starts fumbling—well, fumbling implies a like of precision that Captain America’s steady hands lack, apparently even when—at his belt, Tony finds himself enough to start to reach out, to push against the immovable object that is Roger’s pecs. He turns his face enough to gasp out the beginning of a protest.

 

It turns into a low moan when Steve’s hand finds its target.

 

A few more strokes and Tony’s fully hard. His ‘no’s’, if they can can even remotely be considered a distant cousin of intelligible speech, come out as garbled, traitorous ‘nnghs’  _at best._  

 

Tony  start to wonder if he really doesn’t want this, if it really wasn’t okay when he was so clearly enjoying it.

 

“You know,” Rogers says, “I was kidding about the exhibitionist thing. But then… maybe  _ you  _ weren’t?”

 

And now’s his chance, but what comes out is—

 

“Conference… room’s… empty…”

 

“Well then. I’ll  _ trust  _ in your discretion, huh?”

 

And the words, thrown in his face like that, when he’d thought they’d  _ finally  _ been communicating, getting through to each other for the first time since this whole fiasco started…

 

Tony sags.

 

And Steve clearly interprets the gesture far differently than it was meant  ~~_ (or maybe just doesn’t care) _ ~~ because now he’s supporting Tony, pinning his wrists and him in place with a one-handed iron _~~(no gold-titanium alloy this time)~~_ grip.

 

“Gonna… break… the… door…”

 

“Don’t want that, do we?” Cap grins, like this is all some joke, some fun romp and—

 

He pulls Tony into him and, mindful of the obstacle overhead, spin them around.  Items clatter around them— _ not as if they’d exactly been discreet before, though— _ And Tony’s back is pressing into a concrete wall, now, and there’s a long, rounded rod— _ broom handle? _ —pressing into his back. His pants and boxers around his ankles, Rogers still fully clothed looming above his and Tony thinks—

 

_ Sex for a signature. _

 

He didn’t realize Cap meant that literally.

 

“Not… a... whore…” Tony manages. The words, perhaps, might have been more believable if Rogers hadn’t chosen that moment to sink to his knees, guiding Tony’s movements in a way that still left him upright and supported, and slowly, tortuously, slid his tongue up Tony’s length, reaching the head, swirling against it tauntingly, a prelude to his leaning forward, taking Tony into his mouth fully and—

 

Intimacy for some initials.

 

_ It’s worth it,  _ he tells himself.

 

_ It has to be. _

 

Tony makes sure Rogers has no reason to regret the bargain.

 

After, when they both pull themselves back together— 

 

~~ (and  _ wow  _ unsafe sex; before, Tony might not have even questioned, but then again he’d never thought—) ~~

 

Well. At least there's no mess when you swallow.

 

Tony may not have the Iron Man suit, but there’s one form of armor that can never be taken away from him. That's the one he dons as he straighten his tie, smooths out his shirt.

 

In the back of his mind, he’s already running scenarios on Pepper.

 

Maybe, if he tells her—promises it was a one time thing, heat of the moment, they were on a  _ break  _ and all that implied even if she’d take their continued… exclusivity… for a given  _ (and so had he) _ during said break. He fucked up, he knew it, and he didn’t deserve her—never had, really—but maybe, if he grovelled, maybe she would…

 

They’re presentable enough. Not nearly enough so to hide what they’ve been up to to anyone with even a tiny bit of observational skills, perhaps. But still. Enough.

 

_ (Nat would know instantly.) _

 

_ (...How much would she be able to tell?) _

 

_ (...How much did Tony want her to see?) _

 

They exit the closet, and not a moment too soon. Not ten seconds later, they’re informed that Barnes has been triggered into Winter Soldier Mode, and is well on his way to escaping.

 

And as mention of Barnes always does, Rogers sobers up pretty quickly after that. It's not long until they’re rushing out the door to stop him before someone less inclined to use non-lethal tactics tries instead.

 

It doesn’t, apparently, sober him enough to prevent one final look at Tony. He says—

 

“Next time, well make sure there’s plenty of room for patriotism.”

 

And then he  _ winks. _

 

(Maybe, in other circumstances Tony would have laughed, would have delighted in the play on his earlier words, on the “running joke.”)

 

(Tony isn’t laughing now.)

 

Steve looks away before he might read whatever's on Tony’s face in that moment. Even his supposed ‘genius’ self needs a few moments to parse the implications of that statement.

 

_ Down the rabbit hole we go, Alice. _

 

When it rains, it fucking pours.

 

_At least,_ he thinks, _Cap signed the damn Accords._


End file.
